


call me anytime

by snazzyboi



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bill blames himself, Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, Phone Calls, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Pre-Slash, SORTA PINING, Stan's Letter, Survivor Guilt, THAT phone call scene at the end of the movie, They're cute, it's an extended version of the end, yes everyone is still dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28636665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snazzyboi/pseuds/snazzyboi
Summary: Bill is home, starting his new story, and trying his best to recover from defeating It.  He gets a phone call.  He reads a letter.  Then he makes another phone call to the same person.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	call me anytime

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first work in the IT fandom but I'm probably going to be writing more cause I liked the movies. enjoy this hanbrough fic!

This story, this one will be good. Bill hasn’t had a good track record with endings. No one ever seems to like them. But this time, he has a purpose, he _feels_ it deep within him. He has a family to support him along the way too. Not an empty marriage with someone who looks a little bit too similar to his childhood crush--a real group of people who mean the world to him. He types away, putting these musings into a document when his phone rings. Mike Hanlon. The corners of his lips twitch, already preparing for an inevitable smile.

“Mike?”

“Hey, I just thought I’d check up on you,” he pauses with a chuckle, ”you know, just to see if you’ve learned how to finish a book for once.” Bill laughs, looking down a little. It’s a classic dig at him, but there’s no malicious intent behind it, instead, it’s endearing.

“I just finished the first chapter. And I think,” he stands up, moving to the window seat, “I actually know where I’m going this time.”

“Good.” 

“Say can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you think we’re not forgetting? Like, you know, like last time?” It had been nagging at him, the idea of remembering everything that had previously faded away. Not that he minded, keeping the Losers was of utmost importance to him.

Mike sighs. “Maybe because It’s dead,” he says seriously then pauses. “Or maybe because cause we have more we want to remember than we want to forget.” 

“I like that one,” he replies. That one sounds nice, though Bill thinks that just about anything would sound good coming from Mike. “You decide what you want to do? About leaving Derry?”

“Man, I’ve been in this town for twenty-seven years. Just seeing what It wanted me to. I think it’s time I see the sky for a change.” 

“Go get it, Mikey.” He deserves it. Mike had done so much for them staying in that godforsaken town. Bill can’t even fathom what it must have been like to carry the burden of their struggles for nearly thirty years, but he knows that only Mike would’ve been able to do it. No one has willpower like Mike. He protected them and now he can finally be free of it all.

“Oh, did you get the letter?” Mike asks.

“Uh no, uh what letter?”

“You’ll know when you see it.”

“Well hold on, I just got the mail.” Bill stands and goes to his desk where he had absentmindedly dropped the mail he grabbed earlier that morning.

“We all got one,” Mike says.

“Patricia Uris?” Uris. _Stan_ Uris.

“Just--just read it.”

“Okay.” He mutters.

“And call me. Anytime.” He smiles because he will most definitely take Mike up on that offer.

He’d stop at any point in his day to hear Mike’s voice. It wouldn’t matter what Mike wanted to talk about, it would be the most important thing to him. When, he wonders, did he get so attached to the other man? Maybe it had something to do with nearly being killed again. He’d have time to think about it later.

“Uh, and, Bill?” The way Mike spoke was uncharacteristically timid. Like he was almost nervous. It surprised Bill mainly because he can’t imagine being scared of much moving forward. After all, they killed the nightmare that tainted their childhoods. However, Mike had been an unwavering pillar for him this time around, and his heart began to beat just a little bit faster. “I love you, man.”

Well. That wasn’t what he was expecting, but his pulse didn’t slow. This was a different kind of beating. The heartbeat a teenager has when they see their crush walk by. _Shit,_ he thinks. Attachment might not describe it.

“I love you too.” He means the words with his whole being.

“Alright, see you around.” Bill can picture Mike’s smile in his head. It’s beautiful. 

They end the call and he’s left staring at his friend’s name. His other hand holds the letter Mike told him to read. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he rips open the envelope. 

_Dear Losers,_

_I know what this must seem like, but this isn’t a suicide note. You’re probably wondering why I did what I did. It’s because I knew I was too scared to go back. And if we weren’t together? If all of us alive weren’t united? I knew we’d all die. So, I made the only logical move. I took myself off the board. Did it work? Well, if you’re reading this, you know the answer. I’ve lived my whole life afraid. Afraid of what would come next. Afraid of what I might leave behind. Don’t be. Be who you want to be. Be proud. And if you find someone worth holding on to, never, ever, let them go. Follow your own path, wherever that takes you. Think of this letter as a promise. A promise I’m asking you to make. To me. To each other. An oath. See, the thing about being a loser is, you don’t have anything to lose. So, Be true. Be brave. Stand. Believe. And don’t ever forget, we’re losers, and we always will be._

_Love,_

_Stan_

Tears pour out of his eyes as he draws the letter into his chest, holding it to his heart. Stan didn’t deserve this. He should be alive. Eddie should be alive. It was a disgusting thing that they had to experience. To this day Bill still feels somewhat responsible for the ordeal. If he had just played with Georgie, Pennywise wouldn’t have gotten to him. Or if he had just accepted that his little brother was gone then the Losers would’ve met the goddamn clown in the first place. Stan’s letter wants him to move on. And maybe if he didn’t carry so much guilt, it would be easier. Because moving on is for the living, and he would take Georgie’s place if he could. He’d take all three of their places if he could. 

His cries become sobs, and he slumps down into his chair. Why them? Why not him? He can hardly see through the thick wetness in his eyes, but he reaches out and grabs his phone, clicking on the latest caller’s number. The phone only rings once.

“Bill? Everything alright.”

He goes to speak but he gets choked up in another cry.

“Shit, are you okay? Was it the letter? Or did something else happen--”

“This is my fault.” He spits out, interrupting Mike. He hears tires screeching to a halt, an engine being cut, and then only breathing. A chest rising and falling 2,800 miles away.

“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about then--”

“No!” Bill cuts Mike off again. “I was selfish and I made you guys look for Georgie and that’s why Stan killed himself and why Eddie got fucking impaled a-a-and if I played with Georgie instead of b-being a dick about it, we wouldn’t have h-h-had to look for him in the first place.”

“Listen, Bill, there is no way you are at fault. You had no control over what happened. And even if you did play with Georgie or didn’t look for him after he went missing, we could’ve still been killed by Pennywise, and he’d still be alive today continuing his reign of terror. You may not think so, but you were an amazing brother. Just because you didn’t feel like going out in the rain one time doesn’t make you a bad one. And you are, to this very day, a wonderful friend. You didn’t _make_ us do anything twenty-seven years ago. We helped you willingly because we all loved you. We love you so much. I can’t sit here and watch you blame yourself for something you couldn’t have changed. Bill, why can’t you see how great you are?”

Bill is speechless. He isn’t crying anymore, the finger he had pointed at himself lowered. “You really mean all that?” He whispers.

“Yeah,” Mike says tenderly, “yeah I really do.”

“Mike I--do you think you’d ever see yourself in L.A.?” It was bold. But at that moment, Bill wants to see him. Stan would want him to; _if you find someone worth holding on to, never, ever, let them go._

“Do you want me out there?” His tone is playful. Bill smiles.

“More than anything,” he says, “And rent can be pretty expensive, so you could always stay with me till you find a place.” When Bill speaks it’s a question in a statement.

Mike laughs. “Who would pass up the chance to live in bestselling author William Denbrough’s mansion?”

Bill shakes his head but laughs along with Mike. “Seriously though, I care about you a lot.”

“I care about you too, Bill. It’s a long drive to California from here, but I don’t mind a road trip, it’ll probably take me about a week.”

“I can’t wait to see you.” Bill pictures that smile again. A week isn’t too bad, and any amount of time would be worth it to have Mike in person.

“I can’t either, but you could still keep me company on my trip. Call me tomorrow?” It’s soft, warm; it’s everything to Bill, the simple question.

“Absolutely.” And they hang up for the second time that day. It’s not an end though, it’s the first chapter in his new book. It’s a renewed purpose. It’s hope that the lingering guilt in his mind will go away with time. It’s Mike Hanlon driving out to be with him, something exciting and happy forming between them. He could get used to happy endings.


End file.
